


The Key Entity Extraction

by Princesszellie



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Chuck is a wuss, Family Angst, and gets to go on a drug trip, and is cuddly and needy, can be slashy if you read between lines and squint, who hates the dr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2040090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princesszellie/pseuds/Princesszellie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck needs his wisdom teeth taken out. It seems like a simple thing but its not.  When the drugs kick in, Chuck as his Father knows him best checks out, and Herc gets to spend some quality time with a softer more cuddly Charlie. He has no complaints, but don't worry Chuck does!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Key Entity Extraction

The pain started out as just a dull ache in his jaw in the morning right when we woke up, no big deal. Chuck just assumed he had been having weird dreams again and clenching his jaw. Maybe Dad was having them and he just was feeling them in the drift. It didn’t really start to concern him until the pain became a constant ache with the added lovely bonus of more and more frequent stabbing pain. Delightful really, and totally distracting but he just carried on.

But it was impossible to hide anything from Herc, as he had access to Chuck’s brain for hours every day. At first he just chalked the moodiness up to other mundane factors, they were Jaeger pilots; some sort of dull ache was part of the job description. Chuck never told him what hurt- ever- and it wasn’t until his son really spent most of meal time with a pained expression on his face that he finally decided to drag him down to Medical.

An hour and three x-rays later they had their answer.

“I always suspected you were a little mutant,” Herc joked, looking at the x-ray of Chuck’s very impacted wisdom teeth.  
  
“Shut up old man,” Chuck huffed from the exam chair, “It’s not funny.” He couldn’t bring himself to keep looking at the fuzzy black and white images; whenever he did he felt his stomach churn in the most unpleasant way. The completely sidewise bottom left side tooth freaked him the fuck out.

“Scott’s came in weird too.” Herc mused mostly to himself.  
  
“Great. That’s a huge comfort Dad.” Chuck started to pace the room like a caged animal. He never really did well in Medical. He hated all the poking and prodding, and this clearly promised to be much, much worse than just a standard post mission check.

The doctor returned, “We have made an appointment with a specialist. Due to the…complicated nature of the impaction it will require full anesthesia surgery.”

All the color drained out of Chuck’s face and he looked like he might pass out. Herc could feel his panic shrieking through their connection and he took a step closer to his son in case he did take a header.  
  
His reaction did not go unnoticed by the doctor, “The surgeon is world renowned, we would never send you to a hack Ranger Hansen.” She meant well, she really did but Chuck’s eyes got _huge_ in terror.  
  
Herc decided he better intervene before somebody died, and the world would be down another Jaeger pilot. He gently steered Chuck out the door and into the hallway and discussed the details with the doctor without his son’s now hyperventilating presence.

Back in their quarters, after Chuck had come down a bit, Herc broke the bad news. “Its two days from now.”

“What!?” Chuck’s voice went up an octave.

“Oh come on you’ll be fine, don’t you want the pain to be over?”

“It’s not that bad.” Oh yes it was. But he’d be damned if he’d admit it at this point. In fact at that very second if he could take a power drill to his own mouth and he knew it would stop the pain nothing on earth could stop him.

Herc caught a glint of those thoughts in the drift and he certainly knew that glass eyed stare from years of fatherhood. He reached into a vest pocket and jiggled the bottle of high impact pain killers the doctor had prescribed for Chuck.

Chuck’s head snapped around at the sound and his eyes narrowed, “Oi, whatcha got there?” Oh yeah, not in pain my ass. Herc took out the bottle and shook it in his direction. It was amazing how fast Chuck could move when properly motivated.

At the speed of light Chuck threw himself at his father, landing hard on his knees at Herc’s feet as Dad anticipated the attack and stood up quickly. Chuck looked up at Herc first with his angry kitty face which quickly dissolved into his big green eyed puppy look.

“Dad,” he whined. Yeah. He would do anything… _anything_ for one of those knockout bombs.

“What’s that now? So there is some pain yeah?” Herc rattled them again.

“Oh fuck you…please Dad…” Yeah okay he would grovel now. Whatever.

Herc snorted and rummaged in another pocket and produced several more packets of drugs. “You hit the jackpot kid, and this is just the pre-surgery stuff.” He doled out Chuck’s dose of painkillers and antibiotics, and slipped in one of the sedatives he specifically asked the all too obliging doctor for.

Chuck sat cross legged on the floor and held out his impatient grabby hands up toward Herc who dropped the three pills into the palm. Herc got him a glass of water, since he was up, and stood like a supervising nurse.

The boy couldn’t get the pills in his bloodstream fast enough, and he didn’t give a shit if he took them on an empty stomach. If he was going to die soon at least he wouldn’t feel it. Herc sat back down in his chair and leaned back to watch the show.  
  
Chuck stayed sitting on the floor at his feet, petting Max who had wandered over during the ruckus. It didn’t take more than five minutes (Herc timed it) before Chuck started to sway a little then keeled right over.  
  
Herc couldn’t stop the laugh that barked out of him and he nudged his son with the toe of his boot. Nothing, kid was out cold. Max snuggled up against Chuck’s side and sighed contentedly. Yeah this was much better for everyone. Herc got up and carefully covered Chuck with his discarded jacket; there was no way in hell he was going to carry him to bed. He was too big for that shit.  
  
“Watch your boy Max,” Herc instructed on his way out. Daddy wanted dinner, and for once he could have it in peace without either of his two burdens.  


The next 48 hrs were like some sort of living hell in the Hansen quarters. Chuck was a drugged up bundle of grating nerves. Somehow he managed to resist all the effects of the tranquilizers. It was mind-blowing really, Herc had no idea how his kid was even standing let alone functioning at full neurotic capacity despite being given a triple dose of sleep pills and a double of the narcs.

Chuck did feel pretty weird; his stomach ached and he couldn’t keep anything down, even though on the morning of his surgery he wouldn’t be allowed food anyway. He suspected poisoning and he kept giving Herc sidewise looks. He was so dizzy it made his nervous pacing kinda tricky, and Max wasn’t helping by being constantly glued to him in his attempt to provide comfort.

Finally, he tripped over the damn dog and fell in a heap next to their bunks and just decided to stay down. Herc walked in on the spectacle and felt slightly bad that he was doping up his son for the sake of his own sanity. Next time it might be he fell off some three or four story part of Striker, and that would be one hell of guilt trip. He vowed to back off the dose….maybe.

  
It was dooms day.

Chuck didn’t sleep at all, and neither did his Father. Between the back feed in the drift and the tossing and turning above him, Herc was not feeling super perky as he rolled out of bed and gave the top bunk a little shake. “Morning Sunshine,”

That earned him a grunt and Chuck buried his face deeper into his pillow which only increased the pain in his jaw. “No.”  
  
“You don’t have a choice Charlie, they have to come out.” Herc was sympathetic, he remembered Scott’s experience (which had not been a good one) and that _may_ or may not have been transmitted to Chuck in the drift a couple days ago. Yeah so the additional fear his son was experiencing wasn’t really his, and that was Herc’s fault, so the least he could do was be supportive until they knocked his ass clear out.

Chuck peeked out from under his pillow and shot his father the most tragic look he could manage. It was pretty sad.

Herc smiled a little, “Just a couple of hours and it will be all over. You get to sleep the whole time and when you wake up the pain will be gone forever. Win win Chuck.”

“No.”

“Oh come on, you’re a Ranger for Christ’s sake! You fight 200 ton monsters for a living and you’re scared of having a couple of teeth pulled.” Herc rolled his eyes and pulled the covers off like Chuck was ten instead of eighteen. “Get up and get dressed. They have a car waiting for us.” His tone was headed more towards command verses request.

Chuck took his sweet ass time, acting like a condemned prisoner going to the electric chair. “Can Max come?”

“No. Are you nuts.” Herc shoved his jacket into his chest as he headed for the door. “Come on. Stop stalling.”

 

The car ride felt like an eternity. Chuck could not sit still. He felt like he was roasting alive so he rolled down his window and went to stick his head out.

“Hey. No.” Herc grabbed his belt and pulled him down into his seat.

Chuck whined and scrabbled over him to roll down his window too. “I’m dying.”

“Not yet but if you don’t sit still you will be.” He grumbled keeping a hold on his son so he didn’t try and escape out of an unmarked SUV going 65 mph on the highway via the window. He wouldn’t put it past him.

Chuck huddled up and wrapped his arms around his churning stomach. At this point even he knew his fear was unreasonable, painful, vivid but unreasonable. Dad was right, he had been fearlessly fighting giant sea monsters from the tender age of 15 on behalf of millions of people he would never meet, and he Charles Hansen pilot of Striker Eureka was losing his shit over a couple of teeth. But that sidewise one though…that wasn’t right. Crap. Now he wanted to puke.

Herc watched Chuck change colors like a chameleon right up until he guided him into the surgeon’s office. It was sterile and smelled like antiseptic death to Chuck, but he held it together and didn’t leave the nonexistent contents of his stomach on the bland grey and rainbow sprinkled carpet.

Dad gave his arm a little squeeze. “You’ll be fine Charlie. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Chuck was almost comforted by the sentiment, but as the nurse gently lead him away his fear roared through the drift and made Herc flinch. He tried to send back reassuring and calming thoughts to his son, but they were drowned out by the panic and he gave up. He was just so damn tired.

Herc sank down slowly into one of the stereotypical doctor’s office chairs with a groan. It was as uncomfortable as it looked, but he was too tired to care. Once Chuck’s panic attack got happy gassed Herc planned on catching up on the sleep his kid had managed to deprive him of.

The chair Chuck was escorted to, and then kind of forcefully installed in, was much comfier then the one his Dad got in the waiting room but it might as well have been the wrack. The nurse was being super nice as she explained what she was doing and then stuck a needle in his vein. That was about the time Chuck stopped being okay with his whole existence.

One of the alarms he was connected to started to freak out as Chuck’s heart beat like it would come out of his chest. He was going to die. This was it, screw the Kaiju he was going to die right here, right now. The nurse was saying something to him, some calm down bullshit no doubt, and he couldn’t and _didn’t_ want to hear it.

Suddenly the Doctor loomed over him. “Ranger Hansen, you need to calm down, everything is fine.” There was a _huge_ looking syringe in his hand. Chuck needed to get out of here. He went to get up out of the chair but couldn’t find his legs.

“There you go, just relax and it will be all over soon.” the Doctor sat back and that syringe was empty.

Oh shit. Shit. That fucking sneaky son of bitch! Chuck started to thrash, or at least he did in his mind for about two seconds. Nothing in his body moved one centimeter and is vision was quickly tunneling. He tried to fight it…..he wanted to get loose and run….he wanted to scream…he wanted his Father.

_Daddy!_ Chuck wasn’t sure if it came out of his mouth or out in the drift. He didn’t care; he just wanted Herc to come save him.

Herc was almost asleep when he heard the plaintive call in his head and snapped awake. All of Chuck’s panic and screaming for him came rushing in like wildfire and caused him literal pain. But before Herc could even register the jump out of his chair there was nothing- everything went dead. The feeling stopped him short in his tracks which had carried him halfway to the door to the operating room without his conscious consent. The all-consuming need to reach his son cut out and he blinked.

“Shit.” He mumbled. They finally must have knocked the kid out; but not before he finally panicked so strongly he had called to him. Herc felt a pang of regret for putting Charlie through this but it was for his own good. Had to be done. He would find a way to make it up to his boy.

Chuck’s distress signal echoed fear and abandonment for a while in Herc’s head, but the longer he was sedated the faster it faded and Herc finally returned to his nap. It was a strange dreamless sleep; so very unlike their normal state of fuzzy shared dreaming. It was unnerving and not at all restful.

He was almost grateful when one of the nurses came out and gently woke him up to tell him Chuck was done. “We’ve moved him to recovery, in a few more minutes he’ll be awake enough for you to take home.”

Herc blearily checked his watch, shit Chuck had been out for over two hours. He followed the nurse back to the recovery room where Chuck was lying on a low bed apparently asleep- or dead.

“He’s okay right?” Herc asked looking down at him.

The nurse smiled, “He’s fine. The surgery went well. The one on the bottom left was a bit tricky but the Doctor got it all out. He’ll probably sleep the rest of the day and be a little sore and puffy tomorrow.” She went to get Chuck’s care package and meds and left Herc to supervise him.

He sat down in the chair next to the bed and watched the slow rhythm of his son’s chest rising and falling. He could feel his own heartbeat beginning to sync-up just from the proximity and Chuck’s metabolizing the anesthesia. The drift was gradually returning, inch by fuzzy inch.

Herc moved to kneeling on the floor and gently brushed the hair off Chuck’s forehead in an oddly affectionate gesture. He looked so cute and vulnerable; the exact opposite of his usual demeanor. Chuck made a soft sound almost like a groan and his eyes fluttered a little.

“Hey now, you’re alright,” Herc soothed still petting him, “It’s all over. Everythin’s fine now, ya big wuss.”

Chuck’s green eyes opened slowly, “Daddy?”

Whoa. Herc had not been called ‘Daddy’ in a _long_ time. So long he really couldn’t remember. Five or six years at least. Well damn. “Yeah Charlie I’m right here.”

Chuck stared at him funny, his eyes almost crossed. “You…you came to save me. I knew you would….” He tried to sit up but his body still wasn’t quite ready.

Herc had _no_ idea what that meant, but he figured he’d better roll with it. “Of course I did...See everything’s alright now. We’ll go home soon and you can sleep.” He kept a gentle pressure on his chest to keep him still. “Just relax okay?”

His son didn’t resist very long and went back to being limp and mostly asleep, his head resting against Herc’s chest. It was strange for Chuck to be affectionate or needy in public like this, or at all really, but it was clear that the drugs were greatly affecting his state of mind.

Herc let him stay like that, stroking his hair and actually enjoying the opportunity to be affectionate. The nurse came back with the kit and told Herc they had pulled the car around. He looked at Charlie and questioned his ability to be moved and she assured him he would be fine for a couple of minutes and would probably pass back out in the car.

Dubiously Herc gave Chuck a little shake. “Come on boy, time to go home…”

Chuck was slow to reboot again, but this time he was able to sit up and with the nurse’s help able to be half dragged to the waiting SUV. Getting him into the high off the ground truck was a bit of a catch, in the end Herc just gave his ass a literal shove into the back seat where he sprawled like a lump. A whiney, babbling like an insane person, lump.

This was going to be one hell of a car ride. Herc thanked the Doctors and nurses again, shook hands like he gave a crap then climbed in after Chuck as quickly as possible. He was over this fiasco and wanted to get home. Well, first he wanted to get in the car.

Chuck was taking up the whole backseat and had returned to his catatonic state in the few minutes Herc had been schmoozing. Damn him. In his rush to get away he just sat on his son’s legs and waited until they were a safe distance away from witnesses before dealing with the seating issue.

“Chuck…” he patted the boy between the shoulders, “Chuck, buddy you gotta move….”

Chuck groaned, he could hear Dad…he was somewhere nearby but it was like treading water to get to where he was. Herc wasn’t gonna wait. So by some miracle, he didn’t remember when the boy started to get so damn heavy, he wrestled him into a more upright and less seat hogging position.

About that time Chuck’s eyes opened and he yawned hugely, stretching to take up the entire car again. Herc fended off an arm that was going to make contact with his face, “Watch it.” He warned.

All he got in response was a blank look. Chuck cocked his head to one side an appraised him in a highly disconcerting way. This couldn’t be good. “Charlie?”

Chuck swayed a little then with surprising speed he was cuddled up against the curve of Herc’s body, nestling in perfectly. Herc stayed stock still while Chuck settled in, burrowing his face under his father’s chin and sighing contentedly.

Was it weird Herc was scared to move? He was in a total state of shock…but he didn’t want to break the spell. Carefully he let his arm circle Chuck’s waist and held him close. Chuck had two fistfuls of his shirt and as he clearly struggled against the overwhelming need to sleep his fingers occasionally scraped against Herc’s skin.

He didn’t want to go back to sleep. He couldn’t find Dad when he was asleep anymore; he was scared, so he just _had_ to stay awake. The drift was reviving, but right now it was just a lot of white noise in his head so the only connection he had with his Father was _physical_. And for reasons that he couldn’t explain he needed it.

Herc could feel Chuck’s heart slamming against his ribs, “Shhhh Charlie, you’re okay…” he stroked Chuck’s back and ran a hand gently in his hair. “We’re going home and you can have a nice long nap…”

“Don’t wanna…..sleep…” Chuck muttered into his neck.

His father chuckled, “I don’t think you have much choice kiddo.” He gently tipped his son’s chin up. “Why are you fighting it? Just go to sleep you’ll feel better.”

There was genuine fear in Chuck’s green, albeit crossed, eyes. Herc carefully cradled Chuck’s face in his hands and stroked his cheek with his thumb. “What’s wrong Chuck?”

He thought about it… words were super hard right now, “I…don’t want to be alone…”

“You’re not alone, I’m right here,”

“No….not here….” He touched a hand to his forehead.

Herc smiled sympathetically, he was feeling the same disconnect withdrawal Chuck was, but was apparently handling it better. It was ironic how even when they didn’t have the drift functioning they were _still_ connected through the fear of its absence.

“Don’t worry baby…it will come back. I promise.” He assured Chuck, who was still staring up at him anxiously fighting for his life against the chemicals that were threatening to come between them. “I would never leave you alone, ever. I’ll be here when you sleep and when you wake up I’ll be here, _and_ here.” Herc did something he hadn’t done in years and years. He leaned forward and softly kissed Chuck on the forehead.

Chuck’s eyes slipped closed and he leaned up into it. “You promise Dad?” he asked in barely more than a whisper.

“I swear on my life sweetheart.” Herc let go of Chuck’s face, realizing that he might be causing him pain or doing damage to all that expensive dental work. “Now sleep like a good boy, yeah?”

Chuck snuggled back in as close as he could possibly get, and let his Father’s heart beat lull him into the sleep his body was desperately forcing on him. It wasn’t the drift, not quite, but it would have to do. Dad promised.

During the rest of the ride back to base, Herc sat wondering at this miracle of modern medicine. One little cocktail from an outpatient surgery had reduced his surly, aggressive teenage son to a cuddly kitten in less than two hours. Dear god what an age to be alive in. As he ran his fingers through Chuck’s red-gold hair he realized he was grateful. Grateful that for just a few hours he had been given the gift of having his little boy back; even if it was chemically induced.

When they got home Chuck was totally unresponsive. He had put off the drugs so long a kaiju could probably sit on him and he wouldn’t feel it or wake up. Grudgingly (at least for the witnesses that had come out to meet them), he lifted his son in his arms and carried him back to their quarters. Chuck wasn’t as heavy as he feared, he was a healthy all lean muscle weight appropriate for an eighteen year old who spent his days combat training, but even still by the time Herc got to their door he was a bit winded.

He pushed it open with the shoulder that Chuck did not have his face buried into and thanked god he didn’t have much farther to go. Kid was the definition of dead weight. Max ran to greet him and Herc fended him off with a foot. “Easy killer, I got your boy…”

Max kept hopping up on his hind feet to look up at Chuck in Herc’s arms. “Cut it out or I’ll drop him on you and you’ll deserve it!” Herc hissed. The whispering was irrational, Chuck was _not_ going to wake up but still….it felt necessary.

With ‘assistance’ from the dog Herc got into the small bedroom and realized there was no way in hell was going to be able to get Chuck up into his own top bunk. He was _definitely_ too heavy for that bullshit. So being the good self-sacrificing Father he was, he tenderly laid Charlie down on his own bed.

Chuck whined pitifully, but didn’t move an inch in protest as Herc took off his shoes and settled him in to sleep off his bender. Max whined and pawed at the edge of the bed wanting up. Herc lifted his also heavy ass up on to the bed and then pulled the blankets up over his son. “I’ll be back in a bit okay kiddo?” He kissed the top of Chuck’s head, “I promise.”

Herc did a few little chores, took Max out for a quick walk, then grabbed a couple beers and the pile of paper work he had been putting off and settled on the floor next to his bunk. It seemed stupid for him to keep comatose Chuck company but he had made the promise and he was going to keep it. Herc was many things, some good others not, but he was _not_ a liar.

Chuck’s soft breathing in his ear quickly started to lull him to sleep, so the paperwork was quickly abandoned for a nap. A real nap this time, not the weird cold, hollow thing from earlier. He carefully crawled over Chuck then arraigned him so all both humans and the dog could fit on the suddenly way too small bed. Chuck purred and curled up against him. Herc smiled and buried his face in Charlie’s hair and let himself enjoy what was left of his time with his baby boy. He knew that when Chuck woke up he’d be back to his snarling drowned koala bear self. It had been nice while it lasted…..  
  
When Chuck _finally_ woke up, almost twelve hours later, he was _worse_ than normal. Much, much worse. When Herc heard the first pitiful groan from the bunkroom he got up from his desk and went in to check. He was not physically or spiritually prepared for the sight that greeted him.

Chuck had just finished struggling upright and was sitting rubbing his eyes to clear them of the spots. He blinked up at Herc blurrily. Herc was staring back at him. Holy mother of god…he looked like he had been ten rounds with a prize fighter and lost badly. His cheeks were swollen and puffy making him look for all the world like a chipmunk and under his left eye was a dark smudge of a budding black eye.

“Jesus Christ Charlie….” Herc gaped.

“What?” Chuck asked in a weird mumble. He frowned hearing himself then just cringed in a lot of pain.

“Nothin….don’t worry about it…let me get you your pills.” Herc went and referenced the care instructions and counted out the narcs and antibiotics Chuck would be getting every three hours for the next couple of days. “Here you go beautiful,” Herc said wryly handing him the tablets and a big glass of water.

Chuck glared up at him, “What did you call me?” he tried to say but it was really just a mumbled mess.

“Drink the whole glass okay? Are you hungry at all?” The kid looked so bad Herc couldn’t help but fuss over him. Without thinking he reached down and ran his fingers through Charlie’s hair. Oops. But to his surprise Chuck didn’t pull away or give him shit for it, he just closed his eyes and sighed quietly.  
  
“I’m kinda hungry,” He said looking up at Herc and breaking his heart with his poor messed up face.

“I’ll go see what soft stuff the mess can turn up. At least some protein shakes…maybe if you’re lucky some pudding or something…” Herc resisted the urge stroke one of his son’s adorably puffy cheeks. “Want some ice? Maybe a heat pack…”

Chuck just nodded and flopped back over while his father consulted all the paperwork. God he felt like shit. Every part of his body hurt, which was weird. He couldn’t even open his mouth all the way. God damn it. He still felt woozy, but when he felt a little better we was going to go on a killing spree so help him god…and he would start with Dad…

Or maybe not. Herc returned with the prescribed heat pack and a fist full of fresh gauze. “This should help.”  
  
Chuck pulled out the disgusting blood soaked pieces that were currently in his mouth and held them out to Herc like a five year old offering some half eaten rejected morsel of food. Herc stared blankly at him for a second before some long buried Daddy instinct kicked in and his hand went out and Chuck plopped the repulsive mess in his open palm. A part of his brain was highly disturbed, but the part that was connected via the drift to his only child didn’t seem to think that this was an issue; Chuck didn’t think it was a problem clearly. He was busy probing the inside of his mouth with his tongue checking over the damage.

Herc cringed in shared pain. The drift was definitely back a full strength, at least until the large pain killer kicked in. “Stop that,” he ordered, “Put new ones in and stop making it worse.” Chuck grudgingly obeyed and curled up in pure abject misery. He buried his face in the heat pack and prayed for death.

He must have fallen back asleep because he had no memory of Herc leaving, coming back or how long he might have been gone. But when he opened his eyes Dad was sitting on the floor beside the bed with a tray of food and surrounded by paper. He didn’t notice Chuck was awake until he felt the gentle weight of Charlie resting his chin on his shoulder.

Herc glanced at him, “Hi,” he said quietly.

“You lied…” Chuck mumbled.

“About what?” Herc asked slightly defensively. He had kept his promise to stay with Chuck, even if the little brat wasn’t aware or didn’t remember it; he was still keeping it _now_.

“You said the pain would go away….it so much worse…so much…” Chuck whined.

Herc huffed a little laugh. “Sorry. But it really will…in a couple of days.” Chuck groaned dramatically in his ear. “Oh hush, you will make it. Here, you were in luck they had pudding.” He handed back a cup and a spoon which Chuck gratefully accepted.

“Thanks Dad,” he managed a small painful looking lopsided grin. _For everything_ he added silently through the drift. It hurt too much to talk, and besides he had never been good at the whole gratitude and feelings bullshit.

Herc caught the affection in the drift and smiled to himself. He didn’t dare turn and make eye contact with his son; he didn’t want to ruin the moment. Chuck hated displays of sentiment and Herc was pretty sure his face would betray him. _Your welcome baby,_ he answered back and was rewarded with a little snort of derision at the use of a pet name, but Chuck’s pleasure at having the drift back between them rang truer.

In a couple of days life would go completely back to normal and this would all become a memory- something they could share in the drift. It would be fun for Herc to show Chuck what a little cuddle bug he had been. His son’s mortification would be more than enough repayment for all the stress he had caused him. Yes, this would be a treasured memory for years and years to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly little side project. I felt like exploring how Chuck would be on the post wisdom tooth drug trip. I wanted it to be that he got weird and funny but the more I thought about it, it became more obvious that once you take away his self defense shell he would would be just an insecure little boy who needs his Daddy to take care of him. And clearly Herc wouldn't really mind, since he knows deep down his darling Charlie is like that. 
> 
> My own wisdom tooth experience was pretty bad. I had a bunch of problem teeth that were hard to get out, but luckily my Uncle is a world renown oral surgeon, who just a month ago informed me that my extraction was the most difficult of his career. yaaaaay. The post op pain drugs were awesome tho....
> 
> Also the title come from a series of Coheed and Cambria songs....it was how I had it saved in my file and it amuses the crap out of me. There is some irony to it! ;)


End file.
